


Ghi'myelan I Fen

by Hella_Flawless_Amythyrst



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, POV Solas, Slow Burn Lavellan/Solas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-24 01:18:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9693506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hella_Flawless_Amythyrst/pseuds/Hella_Flawless_Amythyrst
Summary: Mi'nan has seen her fair share of atrocities, but when Clan Lavellan sent her away to spy on the Conclave, she found herself thrown into a plot thicker than Chantry guilt. Can the elf who has a very reasonable hatred of humans, find a way to move on to help save the world? And how could a Blade of Vengeance possibly teach an old wolf how to forgive? Solavellan, slow burn, M for angst and some possibly trigging events later that will be tagged at the start.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Mi'nan sat back in her seat in the corner of the Haven tavern, swirling the mead in her mug. It was the only thing the shems served that vaguely reminded her of Dalish forest wine. She took a sip, her eyes never leaving the scene of the tavern under her hood.

She had arrived at Haven a week ago, and the Conclave was another day away. Keeper had sent her here as a punishment mission. She had stepped out of line but was too valuable to turn away. Her clan had already felt the effects of the mage and templar war, having roamed the Free Marches, and what was to be decided here would greatly impact how her clan was to survive. Even though she had done wrong, she would be useful. _Tel'din'an, tel'nuvinen_.

Every day she sat in the tavern and listened. She was small and unassuming in the corner and most were content to focus on their drink and warm stew. She had thought about going into the Chantry nearby for information, but more people and a variety of people came in here.

The tavern was small and crowded, smelling of stale sweat and beer, and Mi'nan found herself attempting to hold her breathe at the stench of the shems. It was also unusually quiet. She had heard taverns were loud and bustling, but the people here spoke in soft tones and whispered anxiety. There was a bard in the corner providing at least some background noise to distract from the haunting quiet.

There were some Templars here but not all were on the same side. Apparently, the Knight-Captain from Kirkwall was here with his Templars, to what end Mi'nan had not heard. They were not like the other visiting Templars, however. They had an angry way about them, agitated. She never saw the mages. It was to be expected, they would not go anywhere near the Templars that had hunted them.

Carta could be seen bustling about. With these many lyrium takers in one area it was to be expected. Not all the durgenlen were carta however. In fact there was one group that seemed to be independent from both mages and Templars. She saw the symbol of the flaming eye and sword embossed on armor. This group was diverse and seemed to carry no real pattern of race. Perhaps they were tied to the Chantry? A question she planned to have answered before the Conclave. She wouldn't be here long enough after to find out.

It was nearing midnight so she drained her mug and closed her tab for the night. The barmaid Flissa gave her a shaky smile eying the ears under her hood and Mi'nan left for her spot in the nearby woods.

She had lived on her own for months before she had found Clan Lavellan, so she had no problem climbing the tree and setting herself up to sleep. The tree she had picked had a branch high up with a fork in it so she had been able to strap herself to the tree. She loosely notched an arrow in her bow and laid it in her lap before leaning her head against the tree, and nodding off.

* * *

It was almost time for the Conclave. There was one day left, and late that night a curious durgenlen swung open the door of the tavern and offered to tell stories for a drink. Mi'nan had been about to get up to close her tab but thought better of it when the new durgenlen walked in. Something in her gut told her to stay and so she did.

She started to regret her decision when he strolled up to the only open seat in the bar; the one across from her.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, a large crossbow strapped across his back.

Mi'nan almost hesitated, but this was a durgenlen, not a shem, so she shook her head and took a small sip from her mug trying to nurse what was left of her drink. She may not have wanted direct contact but she still had to listen to her gut about this durgenlen.

"Varric Tethras, rouge and storyteller! Nice to meet you!" he said casually, sitting down.

"Hello," Mi'nan said politely.

"So what brings you to this frozen little hamlet?" Varric took the stein of beer that was being served to him by Flissa flashing her a friendly smile of thanks before leaning back and taking a sip.

"The Conclave." she replied simply, and took another small sip of her drink.

"Ah yes, well I suppose I should have guessed that. Still, I didn't think the Dalish cared much for the affairs of humans." he looked at her sideways as he took another drink from his mug.

"Shelmen wars have an effect everywhere." She replied. After a moment she took her hood off letting her deep green vallaslin and ears show. Most people had already guessed that she was an elf, for who else might need to cover their ears, and now that she was engaged in conversation it seemed only polite.

Varric chuckled,"Shit, ain't that the truth." he put his mug down on the table and turned in his chair to fully face her. "Well Brighteyes, I find myself still full of energy from my trip here. How 'bout I buy you a drink for a friendly game of Wicked Grace?"

"I have never played" she replied.

"Even better. I'll teach you!" He smiled warmly.

Mi'nan thought for a moment and then nodded her head. "Alright."

"Excellent! Let me just get that drink for you." And he got up and walked to the bar.

Mi'nan looked around the rest of the tavern while she waited for the dwarf to return. While she people watched she noticed one shem, in particular, was exceedingly drunk and had been leering and staring at one of the serving girls. When she came past him he reached for her and she slapped him away. When he became angry Mi'nan reached behind her for her bow and pulled and arrow out of the quiver on her back.

The shem stood up shakily and tried to grab the girl again but his shirt collar was suddenly pinned to the wall. Varric stood, crossbow balanced on his hip, and said,"I think that means she's not interested, buddy. Drunk and ugly probably isn't her type."

This only made the man angrier and he pulled out a knife on his belt. Before Varic could aim his crossbow, an arrow stuck the shem's sleeve to the wall and he dropped the knife. Mi'nan had already notched another arrow in her bow and aimed it low.

"The next arrow goes into your knee." She said in a low calm voice that somehow boomed in the now silent tavern.

The man stared in fear at both the dwarf and the elf before raising his other arm in defeat.

Mi'nan stalked over and picked up the man's knife. Cutting slits in the man's clothing freeing him from the bolt and arrow, making him wince. She twisted the knife so that the handle was offered to him and with a steady gaze she said one word.

"Leave."

It was a command, one that said she expected no resistance. Shaking the man took his knife and walked past her and out the door into the cold.

As though a spell had been cast and suddenly released the tavern went back to its low murmur of chatter, though slightly more excited. Varric laughed and walked up to Mi'nan.

"That was great! You didn't even say 10 words and the guy was pissing himself in fear. You could command armies with that voice! General Brighteyes!" and he laughed again.

Mi'nan turned to the serving girl who looked a little flushed from all the attention.

"Are you hurt?"

"Wuh-? Oh I uh well no ma'am, uh thank ye, ma'am, nah he's a regular ma'am an' well sometim's he can be a bit handsy ya know? But thank ye, ma'am, anyways." The girl stuttered, face now fully red.

"If he is a problem do not let him in here." Mi'nan replied,"But I am glad you are unharmed." and she pulled both arrow and bolt out of the wall and turned and walked back to her seat placing the crossbow bolt on the table and the arrow in her quiver.

Varric followed her back to the table and pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket and began shuffling.

"You aren't one to waste words are you General Brighteyes? I think that was the most words I have ever heard you say in one response yet."

"I suppose not. I do not feel the need to overcomplicate things." Mi'nan stated.

Varric chuckled,"Well that much is apparent. Let's see how well that stoic face serves you in cards then." and he dealt their hands.

* * *

She lost the first game and the second and then stopped losing entirely. It was after 6 consecutive wins that Varric finally tried to call her bluff.

"There is no way you haven't played this before Brighteyes. I haven't lost this bad since I made the mistake of playing an Antivan! Damn, I'm glad this is a friendly game or I'd be down to my smalls and Bianca!"

"Who is Bianca?" Mi'nan asked, without lifting her eyes from her cards.

Varric grinned,"Oh you met her before, though that drunkard is more familiar with her that you probably."

Mi'nan nodded,"Pretty name."

Varric sighed and looked longingly and his crossbow,"Isn't she?"

Mi'nan smiled slightly at his remark.

Varric scoffed,"Is that a smile I see? Oh, Bianca what am I going to do with you, you little heartbreaker! Sorry General, her heart belongs only to me." and he sent a wink her way.

Mi'nan's smile went wider and then laid her cards down.

Varric stared first at her, then her cards then threw his hand down.

"Damn and I thought I had you this hand! No fair using your wicked smiles to sway your hand."

"The cards were already in my hand when I smiled." she paused and then looked Varric in the eye,"Besides I thought you said Bianca was your vhenan?"

Varric laughed outright,"Oh the General makes a joke too! Maybe it's Bianca who should be worried."

Mi'nan turned herself slightly as though facing the crossbow, "Bianca I would never go after another's vhenan, you have nothing to fear."

Chuckling Varric responded,"I don't know if I should be insulted or relieved!" Then he yawned and began to gather his cards. "Well General Brighteyes it was a pleasure meeting you, and losing to you, but I need to get some beauty sleep. I'm sure the Seeker will want to drag me out of bed as soon as possible to see the Divine."

"Seeker?" Mi'nan asked.

"Ah yes, Seeker Cassandra, Right Hand of the Divine, and royal book stabber!" Varric said with a flair,"Technically I am her prisoner, but I convinced her that she owed me after stabbing my book. Thus I am here in a tavern, instead of a cell."

"You are a prisoner?" she paused,"Why did she stab a book?"

Varric scoffed,"Not just any book, my book! I told you I am a storyteller right? Well, some of those stories I print. Most are complete fiction. But my newest and probably best selling is 'The Tale Of The Champion'" he reached up and gestured with his hands like he was displaying the title in midair.

"And to answer your other question, she thinks I have information on someone she wants to join her little group. So she stabbed my book. In front of me I should add." and for the first time that night he frowned.

"Is that the group with the flaming eye and sword symbol?"

"Ah, so you've seen them. Yep, that would be them. No official name yet, but since the Seeker and The Left Hand are both involved, not to mention Captain Curly from Kirkwall and his shiny Templars, I think it's safe to assume that they are with the Chantry." Then he looked over at Mi'nan,"Be sure to tell your clan to be safe. I know the Chantry and elves don't have a, well, clean history. I've only met a couple Dalish in my life but you folks don't deserve the hand you've been dealt."

At that last line, Mi'nan put something together."You stacked the deck in my favor. Let me win." It was a statement, not a question.

Varric chuckled,"Nothing gets past you, huh General?"

"Why?"

"Why not?" he replied and picked up Bianca. "Well, it's been fun General Brighteyes. Maybe after this whole thing blows over we can play another game!"

Mi'nan stood as well and shouldered her bow,"Ma serannas Varric. Thank you for the company."

"See ya around General!" and with that, the dwarf left.

Mi'nan went out at the other exit and began to climb the mountain. She wanted to spend the night closer to the Temple so she could be right there in the morning.

As she climbed she heard the slight howl of wolves and immediately reached for her bow. It was older than she was, made of ironbark and passed from generation down in the Lavellan clan to the best hunter in the clan, the one destined to lead their warriors and hunters. Her position was comparable to that of a First or Second for while the Keeper lead, and remembered, it was up to the hunters to feed them all and warriors to protect them.

Her fingers passed over the elvish designs she had carved into the handle, her mark on the legacy of this bow. That she, an outsider to the Lavellan clan, was allowed to carry it made her swell with honor and pride. She hoped that all the information she had collected on her trip would be enough to appease the clan for her transgression.

The howls seemed to be coming closer and Mi'nan notched and arrow loosely and said a silent prayer.

_Fen'harel las'ma Mythal'enaste la ghilani'ma arla'astisha._

If any of her clanspeople knew that she regularly prayed to the Dread Wolf they would immediately throw her out for drawing him close to them. They would not understand.

The Dread Wolf and Mythal were the only ones to ever answer her prayers.

Mi'nan had learned how to run while prepared to shoot and continued up the mountain. When she saw the spires of the temple through the trees, she climbed up one and strapped herself to a branch.

As she drifted to sleep, the pack of black wolves ran under her tree and past her.

* * *

She woke up to the sounds of screams.

Like her head had been dunked in ice water she was awake and quickly unstrapped herself and jumped from the tree. She landed with a roll and began running towards the sounds of the screams, of people in pain, people terrified.

She had to shake away thoughts of the last time she heard screams like those and as she ran up to the entrance she realized she was afraid for the first time since her clan-

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Screams, voices crying out, a flash of light and then-

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

She woke to nothing. She stumbled tried to see. See things. They were coming.

Running she was running and then a hand? She screamed.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

He knew he was trying in vain, but waiting for that Dalish to wake up did nothing but stir more anxiety in his stomach. At least this way he was doing something. He had already spent far too much time still.

He was fighting a shade when an arrow suddenly flew past his ear and directly behind him, into a demon he had not seen coming. He looked up and saw the girl, standing on whatever higher ground she could manage, loosing arrow after arrow into the demons surrounding them. Each arrow hit with startling accuracy.

When the last demon fell he rushed over to her side and shouted,"Quickly! Before more come through!" before grabbing her marked hand and shoving it towards the rift.

All it took was a gesture and soon her piercing eyes were focused on the rift in front of them. After a loud crackle of magic, she pulled her hand back quickly and shook it, as if it pained her, but showed no other reaction.

"What did you do?"

Solas had to remind himself that no one here knew the mark was his before he responded calmly, "I did nothing. The credit is yours."

"The mark?"

"Yes. The magic that opened the breach seemed to be the same as the mark on your hand. I hypothesized that it could close the rifts. And it seems I was correct."

"Which means it could also close the Breach," Cassandra interjected, walking towards them.

"One would assume, yes."

"You know a lot about this Breach hahren." She stated, piercing eyes directed towards him. He could not tell if they were green or blue.

"My name is Solas. And I have studied the Fade extensively. When the Breach opened I offered my knowledge to the Inquisition."

"Ma serannas hahren. We will need it." She said politely before turning her eyes from him. He shivered slightly but dismissed it has the mountain cold.

"Good to know we won't be ass deep in demons forever." The dwarf said, sauntering over to the group his crossbow strapped to his back. "General Brighteyes gotta say when I heard you were a suspect for the temple explosion and the giant demon spitting hole in the sky I was rather shocked. But then I remembered your poker face and well..." the dwarf shrugged but grinned nonetheless.

"Varric. It is good to see you and Bianca again." The girl replied. Her tone suggested familiarity but there was no reaction on her face. Solas found it intriguing.

"Ah yes, and she will be great company in the valley."

Cassandra grunted unhappily,"Of course you two know each other."

Varric put his hands up,"Now now Seeker, we only met a few days ago. She was in the Haven tavern the night we finally strolled in. I would stay on her good side if I were you. She can loose an arrow in some guy's sleeve faster than even Bianca! Plus she plays a mean game of Wicked Grace." and he shot a wink at "Brighteyes". Solas thought it was a fitting nickname for her, but wondered at the "General" part.

"I only won because you cheated Varric. And if a drunk man's sleeve is pinned to the wall with an arrow, he can't grab at serving girls," she responded as if it was the simplest matter, and the ghost of a smile appeared on her face. Solas noticed she stood just a little taller as she spoke of the incident.

"Such slander! I would never cheat!" Varric mocked offense.

"Enough! Varric your help has been appreciated but it is not necessary-" and she was cut off by the small Dalish girl.

"Are there many more rifts?" She interrupted her face back to impassive, any trace of a smile she might have had gone.

Taken aback slightly Cassandra replied,"I-no that was the only rift we knew of between here and the forward camp. But there are demons betwee-"

"Alright. Let's move." and her voice was still just as soft and quiet as it had been, but the way it commanded was astounding. Solas now understood the first half of the dwarf's moniker for her. She walked past the speechless Seeker down the path ahead, vaulting herself over the broken fence in her way. Solas wasn't sure if he was more surprised that this Dalish was ordering Cassandra around, or that Cassandra was listening. All he did know was that Varric's nickname for her was proving more and more accurate. He shook his head and hide a small smile as he followed her to the valley.

Solas caught up to her quickly and said quietly,"Ir abelas lethallan, but I believe I did not ask you for your name in our introductions."

"Mi'nan" was all she said.

Blade of Vengeance? What on earth? Who names their child that? he thought to himself before he schooled his face of reaction. He wasn't quick enough.

Noting the look on his face that flashed briefly she continued, "Come Pride. We have demons to fight. We can discuss names later." and she turned away from him and started up the steps.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He had only known her a small time but everything her learned about her intrigued him.

She was a master bowman, that much was apparent. She could leap up and dodge over enemies and still end up shooting them with startling accuracy. The grace in which she moved caught him off guard. Her ability to keep track of many things at once was put on display every time she put an arrow into a demon that had managed to flank anyone.

As they were traveling to the forward camp his curiosity of her grew until he spoke.

"You are Dalish, but clearly you are away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here?"

"What do you know of the Dalish?" it seemed an honest question with no malice behind it.

"I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion."

"What do you mean by 'crossed paths'?"

"I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition."

"I see. And how did you share this knowledge Hahren?" she asked him, with almost no inflection to read.

"How?"

"Yes, Hahen how. Where you respectful in their hospitality? Did you thank them for any shared meals? Listen to their stories first? Or did you hold this knowledge over their heads, as though they were lesser for not having already known it?" her lips pursed slightly as if impatient.

Solas was quiet. True his first few encounters with the Dalish had not gone well. He had not been able to stop himself from scoffing at their tales of the Evanuris, and especially the tales of The Dread Wolf.

"If you have studied any history of the last millennium, you know we Dalish have every right to be untrusting. We will not submit, least of all to someone else's Pride." and her calm face gave him a pointed look at the last word.

Internally he chuckled. She was quiet and demanding but she was intelligent. She had responded to jibes at her people with calm questions, and rational thought.

It wasn't just a one-time event either. She seemed to have remarkable patience.

Her level head kept her calm in the face of the frightened chancellor, challenging his every attempt at posturing with cool logic. She was as focused as the arrows she loosed. He shook his head slightly as they climbed to charge with the soldiers as if trying to shake her loose from his thoughts. He tried to rationalize, telling himself that the reason he was so curious was because she held his mark.

She leads like it was something she had been doing her whole life. She weighed decisions thoughtfully but acted swiftly.

He watched her stare down the Pride demon, the irony not lost on him, shaking her hand as if to dislodge the pain. He watched her throw down some sort of smoke and the next he saw of her was when she seemed to appear out of nowhere at the top of a slight incline. Always looking for higher ground.

He found himself equally amazed as he was annoyed at her skill of stealth in the heat of battle. While it made his job of keeping a barrier on her much more difficult, he had to concede it made it hard for enemies to find her.

Not before her arrow found them.

When the Pride demon finally fell he watched her look of concentrated focus and... anger?

There was a flash and singe of magical energy, palatable to his tongue, and the rift was closed. He felt a great amount of energy release from the tear and hurtle towards the wound in the sky. His ears perked when he heard a cry of pain, and saw Mi'nan holding her hand and beginning to sway.

Before he knew what he was doing he ran to her and caught her before she hit the ground.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

She woke in a bed this time. Her head hurt, but more than that she seemed without injuries. The mark on her hand was no longer stabbing her in pain; instead, it was a tingling sensation that was like when she used to perch in trees for hours at a time waiting for prey.

She slowly sat up, her hand rubbing her face, when she heard the door open. A young elvhen servant was walking in carrying a box. Mi'nan sat up more quickly at the company and the fast movement caught them off guard. Startled they dropped the box they were carrying.

"Oh! I-i-i'm sorry I-i didn't know you were awake!"

Mi'nan had only a moment to be confused before the elf dropped to their knees and began to beg for forgiveness.

She was on her feet in a moment and gripped the elf by the shoulders.

"No. Do not kneel. Never kneel." She said firmly, but the look in her eyes was soft. "You never need to kneel. Not for me, not for anyone." At this point, she had risen to her feet helping the young elf up as well. "Understand?"

"I-yes my Lady."

Mi'nan gave the still slightly frightened elf a comforting half smile. Then she leaned down and picked up the box from the floor and placed it on the nearby table.

"Um-my Lady? I just wanted to say um-Thank you for the Breach."

Mi'nan turned around,"Then it worked? It is closed?"

"I uh- well no my Lady but it's stopped growing! It's all anyone had talked about. They say you saved us!"

Mi'nan was quiet. So even with all that, she hadn't managed to close the Breach. But if the lessened pain in her palm was any indication then it had stabilized. She felt hopeful despite herself. And people were saying that she saved them?

"They're... Happy with me?" She said almost under her breath before she shook her head and hardened her face. "I suppose there will be a trial now."

"I-i don't know anything about that my Lady. Lady Cassandra will want to know that you have awakened. At once she said."

"Where is the Seeker?" She asked.

"In the Chantry my Lady. At once she said." and the elf darted out of the door.

Mi'nan took a breath and steeled herself. That angry chantry shem was likely still here and she would have to deal with him soon. She still couldn't remember what had happened at the temple, and being the sole surviving witness did not sit well with her. Frankly she was tired of it.

She did not like the fact that there was a hole in her memory. She remembered up to the night before, but after that, the only time she remembered waking up was when she had been chained. Why couldn't she remember?

She thought about running. Maybe she could sneak out and leave, try to run back to her clan.

At the thought of her clan, she stopped. How long had she been here? How far past had the Conclave been? She knew she had been unconscious for a while. Was that enough time for them to trace her clan? Would they chase after her? Probably. Shem's always wanted an elvhen scapegoat, and she had literally fallen out of the sky and into their laps. If she went back it would only mean she would be bringing trouble, and possibly death, to their doors. She was next to be the leader of their hunters, protector of the clan. Bringing harm to her clan, that was something she could never do. Her duty was to do whatever she could to protect her clan. Even if it meant staying away.

Mi'nan sighed and stared at her hand. Were there still rifts? The way that elvhen mage, Pride, had talked about it sounded like the magic involved was volatile so it was highly probable, especially if the Breach remained in the sky. She was the only one who could close the rifts. Maybe she could leverage this to her survival? It was worth a shot.

Besides a hole in the sky certainly wouldn't fix itself.

She gathered all her inner strength and took a breath steeling herself for whatever lay beyond the door and then pushed it open.

Outside she was struck with surprise and the way she froze had nothing to do with the cold mountain air. Every citizen of this tiny hamlet and all the soldiers were standing along the road saluting or bowing to her. She heard faint whispers in awe of her as she passed.

"That's her! That's the Herald of Andraste!"

"They say Andraste delivered her to us! From the Fade"

"She saved us from the Breach!"

She couldn't believe her ears. She didn't know if she wanted to vomit or laugh. A Dalish elf the herald of a shem prophet? It was ridiculous. And yet she knew it was a stroke of luck. If things got bad she could try and wield this, possibly save her life. She would need to take 10 baths in a row to scrub the wrongness of it from her, but at least she would be alive to do it. She could worry about her morals when she was alive.

She had walked through the whole town and opened the large doors to the Chantry. The cloying smell of incense and candle smoke filled her nose. It was slightly overwhelming. She heard shouting at the end of the hall through the door.

She took a breath and then opened the door.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Mi'nan wasn't sure if she hadn't just hit her head at the Conclave. Not only was she not going to be put on trial but people, shems, we're treating her like a literal godsend. Even Cassandra. The Seeker and Right Hand of the Divine believed she, a Dalish Elf, was sent by her Maker.

She was surrounded by so many shems and no way out. She wanted to panic, run and hide from them all, disappear into the forest never to be seen again. But she wouldn't let the shems bring harm to her clan. Never again.

She thought back to the thinly veiled threat Cassandra and Leliana had given her about her and her clan's safety. She knew rationally that they only said it to get her to agree to stay, that it was because they desperately needed her or the entire thing was for naught. Still. It boiled her blood that they even mentioned her clan. Those assuming shems had no right.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and continued on her hunt. She had gone just outside Haven to hunt and try and clear her head. The bow she held was finely crafted but it felt cold in her fingers. She mourned the loss of her bow, wishing to feel ironbark in her hands. She did not look forward to telling her clan that the bow had been destroyed in the explosion of the Conclave.

She stilled at the edge of the trees and spotted a ram across the clearing. She slowly lowered herself to one knee and brought her arrow back to a full draw with a breath. She aimed and released, exhaling after she had loosed her arrow. It struck true in the eye of the animal, and the ram dropped to the ground without so much as a whimper.

_Ma serannas Fen'harel min shem ghi'myasha_

Normally she would've strung the animal up right there and gutted, skinned and cleaned the carcass but she couldn't very well leave any parts that may draw predators this close to the camp and she didn't have the means to preserve the meat with her. Instead, she kneeled down and shouldered the animal.

It was difficult and slow going but she trudged through the snow back to Haven, planning to deliver the animal to the quartermaster. Fresh meat with rations would do wonders for the soldier's morale. As much as they confused, disgusted and frightened her, she wished these shems no harm and would uphold her honor as a hunter to provide and protect. As long as they did the same for her and her clan.

She made it to the soldier's camps in front of Haven and before she had a chance to turn to the front gates, Commander Cullen had already called soldiers to help her. Eager, 5 recruits jumped forward and took the ram from her.

"Maker's breath, how on earth did you manage to carry that beast? And why?" Cullen asked incredulously.

Mi'nan shrugged,"We always had to carry our own game in our clan. It was cumbersome but I managed. I would've already cleaned it if I'd the means." and she rolled her shoulders and stretched. It had not been easy carrying the ram.

Cullen simply stared at her in a mixture of confusion and respect.

"I planned to bring it to the Quartermaster. Fresh meat should improve morale." she continued.

"You planned to carry that big of game, up those steps and through Haven by yourself?"

"Yes." she responded simply as if it were not anything special.

Cullen shook his head and a small smile on his face,"Well you are right about morale."

"There are a few good trees out there for crafting weapons as well."

"You seem to have thought of everything," Cullen finally let out a small chuckle, "Thank you."

"Of course." she nodded and walked away.

Cassandra called out to Mi'nan and told her that they left for the Hinterlands the following morning. She nodded and continued into Haven.

She walked up the steps and towards Varric. He greeted her with a warm smile.

"Here comes General Brighteyes! She went from the most wanted person in Thedas, to our only hope of stitching the demon shitting hole in the sky!" Varric gestured wildly with his hands and paused. "All joking aside, how you holding up?"

"Hunting helps." she replied.

He chuckled, "Must be a Dalish thing. Honestly, I thought you might have made a run for it. Would've been the smart thing."

Mi'nan held up her left hand, "With a mark on my hand and a hole in the sky I wouldn't be able to run very far." she paused then cast him a sideways look, "Especially with a Seeker after me."

At that Varric laughed outright,"I suppose you have a point. Shit, I know first hand how crazy she can be!"

"I respect her," she stated. And she did. The Seeker was fierce on the battlefield and off it. She commanded respect with her mere presence and from what she had seen, strived for the right thing. Though that line seemed to blur when it came to threats about elvhen clans.

"Oh sure. I'm just glad she seems to have another target." Varric looked at her seriously then. "But really, you may actually want to consider running the first chance you get. Heroic deeds are one thing but a hole in the sky? We're gonna need a miracle."

"I will protect my clan." she responded and then,"We will be heading to the Hinterlands tomorrow. I will speak to you later Varric." before she walked off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> Ma serannas Fen'harel min shem ghi'myasha: "My thanks Fen'harel (Dread Wolf) for this swift hunt".
> 
> Anyways. Mi'nan is a secret salt master cuz she never shows on her face how much she is judging you. I love her.
> 
> Thank you lovelies! Reviews remove writer's block!
> 
> ~Amythyrst


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

The vallaslin had told him she was Dalish, but he did not grasp the extent until he watched soldiers cheering and carrying a ram through the town. He almost turned his nose until he saw the wound where the arrow had struck; right through the eye. A quick and clean kill.

Well. It was impressive. He had to give her that.

He found it amusing that the humans had risen her up to be the Herald of their prophet because she carried his mark on her hand.

He watched her enter the town. Even when she was simply walking she held such grace. Back straight as the arrows she carried, deep red hair tightly pinned up in an intricate braid. She was shorter but more muscled, likely from years of drawing a bow, and somehow just as lithe. Her deep sun-kissed skin told the tale of how far north her clan was from.

And that was far too much noticing. Solas shook his head for what felt like the hundredth time, telling himself it was because she held his mark, it was natural to be curious but that's all it was.

She was, unfortunately, making her way towards him and he could not stop himself from calling out to her.

“The Herald of Andraste blessed hero to save us all.” he quipped.

“I have misplaced my shining steed, unfortunately. Do you have a spare, hahren?” she responded deadpan, but with a hint of a smile playing at her soft lips.

He smiled. “Ah, I am afraid I have forgotten my griffin in another millennium.” he paused then continued, “Joke as you will, posturing is necessary.”

At that, she sobered. She stood with her hands clasped behind her back, looked out at Haven and said almost harshly, “It's strange to be the Herald of a shem prophet.”

Her expressions and tones were always so muted, like watercolors. He stared at her for a moment before also turning to face the town. Humans were running back and forth for errands and tasks. Then he spoke.

“I have seen ancient ruins and battlefields, and heroes of all manner in memories and dreams. I am curious as to what kind you will be.”

“You study ruins hahren?”

“Yes. Any building that has stood against time, and any battlefields steeped in death have a deep history. Both draw spirits close that press against the Veil. When I dream in such places, I slip into the Fade and can bear witness to moments in history, both great and small.” he spoke with a slight wistfulness. When he turned he found her staring at him with those piercing eyes and had to stop a quick intake of breath. In this light, they appeared blue.

He waited for her to speak. She was the first to break eye contact and looked back at the town. She stayed silent for a moment. Then,

“The violence of the shem wars is a bloodstain stretching across the world.” she said quietly, “It needs to be stopped lest it swallow the world.” She paused before turning and looking at him again.

“Among my clan, I was an apprentice to the Warleader, leader of our hunters and protectors. It is a position of honor among the Dalish, much like a First. It was always my duty to protect my clan, my _family_. These _shems_ are not my family nor my clan,” Her eyes flashed green and she continued with a slight sharpness in her voice, “But they do not deserve to die.” she shook her head slightly as if she was warring internally and then looked out to the town that she spoke of.

“Does that answer your curiosity about me hahren?” she softly spoke.

No, it most certainly did not. Solas did not know what to think of this quiet Dalish. But it was a respectable position. Commendable, even after the treatment she had received. After a moment he said, “I will stay then. At least until the Breach is closed.”

She looked over at him, "Thank you hahren."

“Cassandra has been accommodating, but I am an apostate among a Chantry organization.” he continued, ”You understand my concern.”

A small furrow formed between her eyes. It was fascinating. “You came to help Solas. I will not let that be used against you.”

He almost scoffed, ”How would you stop them?”

Then she turned fully to face him and look him in the eye. She was a good few inches shorter than him, but her eyes now shone green with determination.

“However I had to.”

“I-”, he was taken aback slightly. “Thank you.”

She simply nodded. After a short pause, he picked up the conversation again.

“So. Your name. I am assuming it was not chosen by your parents?”

“As much as I doubt any mother would name their child Pride?” was her response. Though she did not show any emotion he did not think he had offended her with his question.

“Why that name? How exactly are you a Blade of Vengeance?”

“The same reason you chose Pride. A memory of a day that need not be brought up, but never forgotten,” she said solemnly.

Her tone surprised him. It was serious and though she still showed no emotion… she had guessed correctly the reason of his chosen name. What was the cause for the sorrow she must also feel?

“A name is indeed a powerful thing.”

“That it is Pride.” he winced at hearing his name in common.

“I suppose then, it would be too much to ask you to not use the Common form of my name?”

“We are speaking Common.” And then she shot a sideways look at him, mouth just slightly upturned, “You may call me Blade of Vengeance if you wish.”

He returned her smirk, “That is rather a mouthful isn't it?”

Her hint turned into a full smirk, “Blade for short then.”

At that, he laughed outright, “Da’mi.”

It was as if someone had wiped her face clean of emotion and whatever small warmth he had received from her so far receded almost instantly. She only gave a short curt nod.

Solas noticed this and was about to ask if he had offended her when she spoke in a cold tone. 

“I will be leaving for the Hinterlands with Varric and Cassandra tomorrow to meet with a Mother Gisele. Would you come?”

Though her tone was cold and close to commanding he had a feeling that if he refused she would respect his decision.

“I would be honored Da’mi.” and he gave her a slight bow. He was testing the waters with his new nickname and though she tensed, she did not tell him to stop.

“Ma serannas hahren. We will be leaving at first light.” And she walked away into the apothecary.

He stared after her. He couldn't help it. She was a mystery.

Her shook his head, again, and went inside his cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my salty bae's. They are so cute. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!  
> This chap was a little dialogue heavy and a little short. Sorry. Hope you guys liked it!
> 
> Thanks, lovelies! See you next chap!
> 
> ~Amythyrst


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

 

It wasn't that Mother Gisele’s advice was poor. Mi’nan simply was not looking forward to talking to more Chantry and nobles and even more _shems_.

And so she delayed returning. The Hinterlands were after all still in such a state of turmoil and she could help. The first place they went was Master Dennett's.

Unfortunately the sun was already starting to set after Mi’nan had talked with the Mother, so they started up the hill towards the lake. There was a spot close there that had been marked as a good place to camp.

With a campfire going the group settled into the fennec stew Mi’nan had made. Solas was polite, Cassandra impressed, and Varric praised her, ridiculously so in her opinion.

“Seriously General, this stew is amazing. And I'm not just saying that cuz you're a woman or you're Dalish. Daisy was a ray of sunshine but she was no chef!”

She just shrugged, “A bountiful hunt is no good if you burn the meat.”

“A practical outlook. But Varric is right, this is very good Hearld. Thank you.” Cassandra added. Mi’nan’s eyebrows knit together at the name.

“Hey General, you up for a rematch?” Varric said, as he wiped his mouth, placed his bowl down and pulled a deck of cards from his jacket.

“Only if you don't cheat. I want to earn my victories.” Mi’nan responded placing her finished bowl to the side.

Solas volunteered to wash the pot and bowls and Cassandra volunteered first watch. Solas raised his hand for second, and Mi'nan for third.

Mi’nan and Varric played well after the sun had gone down and she had yet to win a hand. Finally she asked Varric to teach her how to shuffle.

“Alright Brighteyes so the trick is to layer the cards like this,” there was a sharp flutter as Varric demonstrated and then he handed the deck to Mi'nan.

Mi'nan carefully held the deck and cut it in half holding the two parts like Varric had shown her. She braced the cards and let them go… everywhere.

“oh”, was all she said as Varric burst out laughing.

“How is it that you can do a backflip and still land an arrow, but a deck of cards is your downfall?”

Mi’nan had no answer for him, so she said nothing.

“Hey, it's alright. Let me show you again.”

Varric gathered the cards quickly, and once again showed her how to shuffle the cards. Mi’nan fumbled a bit the second time, but the third was far less awkward.

Now that she knew how to shuffle, she felt far more in control of the game. Varric still won every game, but there were quite a few more close calls. Mi’nan felt far more comfortable that she was learning.

Mi’nan yawned, thanked Varric for the games before she turned into her tent and retired for the night.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

She woke with a start. She didn't have to look at the moon or the stars to know what time it was. 2 hours past midnight. As it always was.

Tonight had been bad. She couldn't remember why. She never remembered her night terrors. But she could guess what they had depicted.

She sighed because she knew it wasn't her turn for watch yet but she wasn't going to sleep. She rubbed her eyes briefly before getting dressed. She pulled a hooded cloak over her and walked out of her tent.

Solas was sitting on the edge of a rock outcropping looking out and up at the night sky. The fire had burned down to embers long ago so nothing blocked the vibrancy of the stars. She walked over and sat down next to him.

“I believe it is not your watch for another hour Da’mi.” he spoke without looking at her still staring out at the view.

For a moment. She watched curiosity get the better of him and saw him look at her from the corner of his eyes. She realized her hair was not braided up as it normally was, and her long locks peeked out under her hood. She didn't know why she felt her ears grow hot, but she did pull at her hood slightly.

“What troubles you Da’mi?”, his voice held a surprising softness that she wasn't expecting. She looked up in surprise and saw him staring at her. His steel eyes considered her carefully and she saw his inquiry was a genuine one.

One she had no intention of answering.

She turned away from him, gathered her knees in her arms and looked out below her at the Hinterlands far below. The waterfall behind her created such a wonderful peaceful background song.

After a time Solas followed suit. It was odd but silence with him didn't feel awkward. They seemed similar in the fact that they would speak if they had something to say, but would never pressure the other to say it. His mere presence helped to almost ground her in a world that had spiraled far out of her control. She couldn’t explain it.

“Hahren?”

“Yes Da’mi?”

“Will you tell me about the Fade?”

“I would be happy to.”

And she knew he meant it.

~.~.~.~.~.~  


She had fallen asleep on his shoulder after only 10 minutes. Solas gave a small sigh, and he looked at her.

This Dalish woman puzzled him to no end. She rarely showed a hint of emotion, even in battle, and yet he couldn't help but sense a great sadness in her. It scared him.

He recognized it.

The moonlight shone on her dark skin, and he could just make out her dark green vallaslin, showing her dedication to El’garnan. Her face was covered in shiny scars telling the tale of her hard life growing up in woods. Though she had put her hood up, it had slipped slightly and he could make out her long unbraided deep red hair. Her breaths were slow and even her soft mouth hanging just slightly open-

Solas looked away quickly and cursed himself silently. What was wrong with him? Did his depravity know no ends? She was going to die, either from the dangers she faced or his mark on her hand. Or by his hand if he managed to succeed after this setback.

No. He had to harden his heart. He had to succeed. The People were depending on him. Elvhen like her so lost in their ways they clung to their slave markings in pride.

He couldn't stop himself from stealing one more look at her.

_Fenedhis!_

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

He woke her so she could take over watch, a gesture she actually seemed to appreciate. After a polite goodnight he turned into his tent to sleep for the rest of the night.

When he awoke she was in the same spot, hood down hair braided up in her complicated style. She was eager to get started, so the group ate quickly and headed on their way to the horse masters.

They were making good time when he saw Mi'nan draw an arrow to her bow. He mirrored her, drawing his staff, and dropped a barrier. The threat she had sensed came into view as they rounded the hill.

A pack of black wolves was skirting the edges of the farm. Mi’nan gave a quick nod to Cassandra, who ran at the pack drawing attention at the silent order, and the she disappeared.

He knew he would find her on higher ground, but focused to cast lighting on the wolves, watching it jump and dance between them. One by one each wolf fell either by arrow, bolt, spell or sword.

Just as his barrier disintegrated, he felt the presence of another wolf. He had enough time to turn around and watch as an arrow that almost skimmed his ear lodged itself in the wolf's open mouth.

He barely had time to pass the moment of deja vu before he saw Mi'nan at his side, touching his ear. He inhaled quickly at the contact and brought his hand up to cover his ear.

She held her right hand up but a moment before placing it behind her back.

“Ir abelas hahren. I knew that last arrow was close and wanted to make sure you were not hurt.” she said in a calm voice.

Solas lowered his hand, feeling slightly guilty. “It is no trouble Da’mi. Though perhaps next time we should avoid cutting it quite that close.”

He watch a smile ghost her lips before she shrugged, “It's was either a bit of skin off your ears or your life.”

“Well it was one hell of a shot! I gotta say General, seeing you pin that guy in the tavern was satisfying, but watching you shoot an arrow between a guy’s ear and into a wolf’s mouth is damn impressive!” Varric said, stowing Bianca in her harness on his back.

“Thank you Varric.” she stowed her bow and walked over to where to wolf corpses lay.

She kneeled to the ground and Solas heard her say a small prayer under her breath.

_Ir abelas ma'fen. Mythal'enaste ghilas. Fen'harel ma ghilana atisha adahlen tir'alas. Dareth shiral ma'falon_

His ears perked and his head turned to her as he heard her speak his name. Everything he had heard and experienced of the Dalish was that they cursed his name, even though they used statues of him to scare away spirits. But she was… praying to him? For the wolves?

Varric and Cassandra didn't seem to be bothered by her pause, though Varric did slightly raise an eyebrow. They probably thought she was saying some common Dalish prayer.

She stood and he watched her face as she looked at him and seemed to realize she had spoken aloud. Though her face stayed mostly impassive, he noticed her ears had slight flush to them and her eyes darted away.

He thought about not saying anything but his curiosity got the better of him.

“You pray to Fen'harel, Da’mi?”

She was silent for a moment before stating, “Yes.”

He tilted his head, “Why? I was under the impression that the Dalish did not favour the Dread Wolf.”

Again she paused for a moment before responding, “I once prayed to all the Creators. Mythal and Fen'harel were the only ones who answered me.”

This gave Solas pause. While none of the so called gods could ever have answered her, the two that were the least likely were the ones she had listed.

“When did Mythal or Fen'harel answer you Da’mi?”

He watched her face grow solemn as she answered, “ _Ir tel’nuven dirtha melahn ir venem din’nanshiral Solas._ ”

He watched her face and simply nodded. “ _Ir abelas Da’mi. Ma nuvenin._ ”

He wished to ask her many more questions. If she favored Mythal and Fen'harel why did she bear devotion to El’garnan on her skin? Did she not pray to him? Why? Why not bear Mythal's marks? Or Andruil’s for that matter, she was a fine hunter.

He said nothing. After his apology she turned and continued on her way.

The Seeker broke the silence, “Those were no normal wolves.”

“Agreed. All wolves I've encountered will not engage another hunter unless you have stepped too close to cubs. That was a small pack but the agitation they held was not caused by something as mundane.” Mi’nan called back.

Solas spoke up, “With as many rifts as are in the area, it is possible that they were driven mad or a demon took control of the pack.”

Mi’nan seemed to darken at the thought, “We can ask Dennet about them. We are almost there.”

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

And so it came to be that they had to kill the wolves. From what he had seen of Mi'nan he knew this bothered her greatly but she completed the task without any outward complaint. She knew it had to be done and she completed her duty swiftly.

She knelt before the wolves and again said her small prayer. He was curious.

“Da’mi, may I ask you something?”

“Yes Pride.” he winced slightly but continued.

“You seem to hold wolves in great esteem. Is this because you pray to Fen'harel?”

She paused and considered him for a moment before responding.

“Yes and no. I had always held wolves with great respect. In the forest, they are the only hunter that is my equal. After… well it simply solidified my respect.” she paused and then continued. “It is always sad when a great hunter is killed. But for my survival and those who are under my protection I will do what I must, so is my honor as a hunter. But I will also honor their sacrifice.”

He nodded in response and thought over her words. She continued to surprise him. She held such awareness of her actions. It did not stall her but she never dismissed the effect.

Most Dalish he met were insufferably arrogant to the point that it blinded them. But she seemed to-

No. It wasn't possible.

Yet the realization of the possibility rocked him to the core. He was silent for the rest of the day and into the night.

He had to be mistaken. He was looking far too closely. She didn't even have magic save his mark on her hand. He was fooling himself. It was the mark.

Nothing more.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

It seemed as though she was on a personal agenda to prove him wrong. They spent weeks in the Hinterlands, clearing out Templars and wild apostates, gathering supplies and allies, even hunting and gathering for the refugees whose lives had been torn apart by this war.

It seemed she wasn't completely devoid of emotion as her first impression might have implied. It was simply far far more subtle. To see it you had to be aware of the signs. And once you knew the signs you could read her like any other.

Mostly.

But he watched her eyes soften at the scout who had been looking for a moment of peace in war, and she touched the shoulder of the man who lost his lover. She ran to the man who needed the potion for his wife, and she held her head higher and her back was a little straighter when she handed the hunter the ram meat. Her brows knit together slightly when she learned of the Templars who killed a widow's husband, and he watched as the fire of the burning house reflected in her eyes when she loosed her arrows into the Templar archers.

She grasped the hand of the mage whose phylactery they had returned, knowing the cost. When she marked the spots on the map for Recruit Whittle, Solas saw her ghost of a smile at the knowledge that these refugees wouldn't freeze. All these tiny little gestures that to the untrained eye may have gone unnoticed.

There was not a repeat of that first night in the Hinterlands. She would not allow anyone to take second watch anymore. He found it curious but asked no questions.

She seemed committed to keep true to the words she spoke at Haven and The Hinterlands reflected it. Instead of hushed whispers, and anxious tones, a note of hope began to flutter throughout the crowds they past. When the Inquisition was named, instead of suspicion, praise was on their tongues. Finally someone was here to help.

Solas was glad. Even as stunted as these creatures were they did not deserve the cruelty of war.

After watching her for weeks as she helped the refugees and people of the Hinterlands, Solas realized that her stone faced persona was just a mask. He wasn't sure if she was even aware she was wearing it. But he saw it crinkle around the edges of her eyes, the slight knit in her brow, the purse of her lips. His instincts told him she not only felt, but she felt _deeply._ She simply never let it show.

After three weeks of roaming around the Hinterlands it became apparent that they needed to leave. The Chantry mothers would not be patient and there was no point in delaying any further. The way Mi’nan gripped her reins and the hard look in her eyes told him she was not looking forward to it. Not that he blamed her. Even still she never complained.

He had begun to admire that indomitable spirit in her.

He rationalized it away of course. She would need that spirit if she was to make it through this in one piece. Between rifts and demons and courtly intrigue, this world was going to do its damndest to crush her.

At the very least she seemed to be handling his mark well. She had stopped shaking her hand out after every rift, though he saw her finger stretch against her bow sometimes. Either it had stopped hurting or she was simply overpowering it.

They made their way back to Haven where they knew they would get maybe a day's rest before heading off to Val Royeaux. When they arrived Solas bade a polite goodnight and retired to his bed for the evening before being woken far earlier than he would've liked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always forget I have this account. This story is more updated on ffn. Though it's been forever cuz a bunch of life shit happened. I'm starting on this again though! Not abandoned! :D Let me know what you think!
> 
> Elvhen translations: 
> 
> Ir abelas ma'fen. Mythal'enaste ghilas. Fen'harel ma ghilana atisha adahlen tir'alas. Dareth shiral ma'falon: My heart is filled with sorrow my wolf. Go with Mythal's favor. May the Dread Wolf guide you to the peaceful forest of the world. Safe journey my friend.
> 
> Ir tel’nuven dirtha ir melahn venem din’nanshiral: “I didn't not wish to speak of when I walked the journey of [death/vengeance/revenge]” Again that last word was a little trickier but it was a little bit of playing around on my part. “Din’an” means death where “nan” mean vengeance or revenge. By combining them I wanted to say both meanings in one word. Basically I made a pun in Elvhish. Because I have no life. :P (It’s also a pun on her name. Nerd)


	6. Chapter 6

** Chapter 6 **

 

Mi'nan could not leave Val Royeaux fast enough. The whole place disgusted her. Though they hadn't attacked her, the shems were about as helpful as she expected; not at all. 

Internally she scoffed thinking back to the encounter. In order to be a false prophet she would have to claim to be one, which she never did. She thought her conversation with Josephine would have helped with that but no. It seemed they couldn't get over the shape of her ears.

_ Su an’banal i’delavir shemlen! _

She had always hated Templars after what had happened when she was 17, but after that display of downright hatred she felt absolutely no drive to try to convince them to help the Inquisition.

The Templars had all but slapped her across the face in their distrust for her and the Inquisition, while Fiona had personally invited her to Redcliff. She knew Cassandra and Cullen weren’t going to like it but if she had any say about it she wanted to ally with the mages.

She managed to get at least one ally out of this trip to the capital however. Sera confused her to no end, and she could hardly derive meaning from the elf’s words but Mi’nan was not going to turn down volunteers. She also managed to gain an agent in the form of another merchant. It was encouraging to see not all shems wore their arses as one of their ridiculous hats.

They were currently traveling outside the capital to attend some shemlen party. As much as Sera confused her, she couldn't help but smile at her idea of tossing in bees. She might not have liked her disrespect of Dalish culture but they definitely agreed on one thing: Nobles were arseholes. 

She was not looking forward to this party. It was going to be filled with shems that thought calling her rabbit was a compliment. How was being compared to an animal a good thing? At least “knife-ear” was honest.

Mi'nan tucked a stray piece of hair that had come out of her braided bun behind her ear. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Solas pretending he hadn't just been caught looking at her. He had done this often on their travels, and she didn't know what to make of it.

She also didn't know what to make of the flush she felt heat up her ears. She was no stranger to small crushes, she had even been engaged until…

She had decided to copy Solas and simply ignore… whatever this was.    
  


~.~.~.~.~.~.~   
  


They had finally arrived at the estate. Mi'nan was to go in alone since the invitation was for her and mentioned no plus one.

She entered the elaborate entryway, taking in the grandeur of the place. She was also scanning the lay of the place, looking for any cover or higher ground she could leap to if necessary. Not because she felt she would need to, but out of simple habit.

Her back was straight, her hands clasped behind her back. She was observing all the people gathered when two gaudily dressed shems came up to her, cooing.

The conversation was not altogether unpleasant, they seemed only interested in asking her about her adventures. They hadn't even called her rabbit. But then a rather loud and also gaudy noble began descending the steps behind her.

“The Inquisition! What a load of pig shit! Everyone knows it’s just a bunch of upstarts trying to grab at power!” The man had walked in front of her has he spoke with a heavy Orlesian accent that Mi’nan had a hard time understanding. 

She wasn’t sure if she was amused more at the man’s obvious drunkenness or the looks on the other noble faces at his language. He had apparently been very insulting, even to someone like her. She knew he was looking for a fight, and she had to admire the honesty.

Mi’nan clasped her hands behind her back and spoke in a polite monotone voice “The Inquisition has made no claims of divinity. We are simply trying to restore peace.”

The man scoffed, “Ah yes here comes the Inquisition, restoring peace with an army! If you were a woman of honor, you would step outside and answer these charges!” and he reached for the sword on his back.

Mi’nan immediately crouched into a defensive position, pulled her bow and nocked an arrow. Before she could pull it back however there was a crackle of magic and the human froze, quite literally.

“My dear marquis, how unkind of you to use that kind of language in my house... to my guest.” A tall dark beautiful woman sauntered down the steps in a way that reminded Mi’nan of a predator stalking its prey. Silver and white robes accentuated her curves, and was sleek next to the gaudy outfits the other nobles were wearing. They were meant for movement, fighting. And she had a hat with horns. Because  _ Orlais _ Mi’nan guessed.

“You know such rudeness is… intolerable,” She stood in front of the frozen marquis now.

“Madame Vivienne! I humbly beg your pardon!” the marquis was reasonably panicking

“You should,” Madame Vivienne grasped the marquis chin and said in a stern almost bored voice of ice, “Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?” 

The woman turned to her and asked, “You are the wounded party in this my dear. What would you have me do with him?”

Mi’nan was slightly taken aback but remained impassive and simply responded with the truth.

“I do not care. Do what you will. He means nothing to me.”

Though she was wearing a mask, Mi’nan saw evidence of raised eyebrows, but it was the smile that followed that caught her attention. She thought of a viper when she saw it. The madame turned back to the marquis.

“Poor marquis, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Fereldan dog lord, she snapped her fingers and the man was unfrozen. But she wasn’t done with him.

“And all dressed up in your Aunt Solange’s doublet. Didn’t she give you that for the Grand Tourney? To think, all the brave Chevaliers who will be competing left for Markham this morning… and you’re still here. Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by defeating the Herald of Andraste in a public duel? Or did you think her sword would end the shame of your failure?” Her voice which had been lilting and pleasant before was dripping with poison by the end. 

The marquis remained silent and hung his head in shame. Vivienne continued.

“Run along my dear. Do give my regards to your Aunt.”

With that, the Marquis left with his tail between his legs. Vivienne turned towards her.

“I am delighted you could attend this little gathering my dear! I’ve so wanted to meet you.” Vivienne’s voice was pleasant and clear again. It set Mi’nan on edge. She walked away and Mi’nan assumed she was meant to follow. 

They walked away from the main gathering next to a window. Vivienne turned to her.

“Allow me in introduce myself. I am Vivienne, First Enchanter Of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court.”

Mi’nan nodded and replied, “I am Mi’nan, agent of The Inquisition.”

Vivienne gave a small laugh, “My dear, I know who you are. I do believe all of Orlais does.”

“Wonderful,” Mi’nan replied completely deadpan. Vivienne gave a small eyebrow raise. “I am not familiar with shem courts Madame. Will we be hearing more from that marquis?” 

“Doubtful my dear. His family is not a powerful one, but is very devout. He will be disowned for this and likely flee to the battlefield of the Empresses civil war in the Dales to redeem himself.” She replied offhandedly. 

“I see.” Mi’nan was curt. She knew there was a clan that tended to roam those lands and hoped they had not been caught in another pointless shemlen war.

“Ah but I did not ask you here for pleasantries my dear. With The Divine dead, the Chantry in shambles, the Inquisition is the only thing that may bring order to our frightened people.” Vivienne spoke like this was a dance, her voice graceful and full of purpose. It made Mi’nan uneasy though she could not place why.

“As the leader of the last of the loyal mages of Thedas I feel it only right to pledge my assistance to your cause.” 

And there is was. “Loyal”. Lavellan was different from her clan in that they cared what the shems did. Which confused Mi’nan when she first arrived but she eventually grew to understand why. It was far easier to predict where the humans were most likely going to be if you knew vaguely their politics. 

The mages locked in their Circles had rebelled and Mi’nan could not deny she had felt strangely proud. Though most were shems and she held no connection with them save their shared oppression, it was good to hear of those pulling against their chains.

Apparently this woman did not want to liken herself to the “rebel” mages. It made Mi’nan wary of her.

“Last of the loyal mages? Loyal to whom?” Mi’nan asked.

“Why, loyal to the people of Thedas of course. ‘Magic is meant to serve man’. We have not forgotten Andraste’s commandment.”

Mi’nan resisted the very strong urge to roll her eyes. Still a volunteer was a volunteer.

“Why would you be interested in joining the Inquisition Madame?” 

“To look my enemy in the eye on the battlefield my dear. Not many have to opportunity.”

Hmm. She couldn’t fault her for wanting that. Mi’nan squared her shoulders.

“I see. Tell me one more thing Madame. Why should the Inquisition consider letting you in knowing you will use us for your own political advances?” Her face showed no emotion and she stared directly in her eyes.

For a split second Mi’nan saw offense in the enchanter’s eyes, which satisfied her. She wanted to see her reaction. In her opinion a shem politician was far more dangerous than any mage. She’d grown up around magic. She had dreamed with Mahanon. Enlea’an even practiced blood magic. Magic wasn’t something she feared. Vivienne was a mage who’d made herself a politician. Vivienne was dangerous.

But a moment later the irritation was gone and a look Mi’nan could not discern crossed the enchanters face before she outright laughed.

“Oh my dear, for not having any experience in human courts, you seem very knowledgeable about politics.”

Mi’nan cocked her head to the side, “You assume there are no politics amongst the clans.” she spoke it as a statement but the question, the challenge, was implied. It was a trap, one she knew an obviously accomplished politician would recognize.

If the Madame conceded that she had made that had in fact never thought that the Dalish had something has complicated as politics in their lives, she would not only be admitting defeat, but also deeply insulting the very agent she was trying to join. But to deny it would be an obvious lie and another insult.

To her credit the Madame showed no shock. Keeping the smile that reminded Mi’nan of a rearing viper on her face, Vivienne responded, “To assume anything does both parties a great disservice my dear. An open mind is a far more adaptive tool, would you not agree?” 

Mi’nan had to admit she was impressed. If she was going to be forced to play Chantry politics, Vivienne would be invaluable. 

Besides she wasn’t about to turn away volunteers.

“I would Madame de Fer, as long as it is true.” Then she held out her hand, “Welcome to the Inquisition.”

The Madame’s eyes gleamed as she shook Mi’nan’s hand, “My dear this is the beginning of great things, I can promise you that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys. I love Vivienne personally but at this point Mi'nan certainly would not. Don't forget to comment please! Reviews remove writers block!
> 
> Elvhen Translations:  
> Su an’banal i’delavir shemlen!: “To the void with those stupid humans!” or “I'm so fucking done with these dumbass humans”


	7. Chapter 7

They had returned to Haven after a long night and day of riding. The others had wanted to rest, but Mi’nan wanted as much distance as possible as soon as possible between her and Val Royeaux.    
  


Vivienne and Sera had set themselves up the night they arrived, and now Mi’nan roamed Haven in the early morning light. Despite the long night she had not gotten much sleep, and she hated tossing and turning in a fruitless attempt to find a few more hours of sleep. Better to be up and doing something.   
  


As she walked around in the brisk morning it became clear she was not the only one who had a similar idea. Solas was outside his cabin, stretching in the morning light. He was turned away from her and she could not deny to herself that she was enjoying the view.    
  


Fine. There was a… pull in his direction. But if he ignored it so would she.   
  


She couldn’t explain why she felt it. He was nothing like Ghilen. Where she was bright and full of laughter and smiles, he was grim and fatalistic. But she couldn’t deny she felt a familiarity with him.   
  


But then when she was with Ghilen she had been the same as her. They had been attached at the hip growing up, exploring the wilderness together whenever they got away from their duties. She was the only person who was as close to her as her brother was. The pranks they would play would drive her clan members crazy and made Mamae laugh.   
  


She had a rather mischievous idea at that moment. With his back to her it provided a wonderful opportunity to practice her stealth. She crouched down and worked herself the long way around the cabin to avoid his gaze when he turned back to the town.   
  


She was crouched down, barefeet not making a sound. She was about to reveal herself in a gentle poke on the shoulder when he spoke, his back still facing her.   
  


“That was an impressive effort Da’mi, but isn’t it a bit early to be sneaking?” He said calmly, his smooth voice lilting in humor.   
  


Disappointed she gave a small sigh, straightened and walked to stand next to him.   
  


“What gave me away?” She wanted to know so she could fix it. At least learn from this failed attempt.   
  


“It was your mark in fact. The magic has a unique signature and is directly tied to the Fade.” Solas gave her a look out of the side of his eyes. It almost looked approving.    
  


Still. She couldn’t very well correct what she couldn’t control. She lifted her hand to look at it. Damn.   
  


He seemed to have noticed her disappointment and continued, “I will say the mark was the only thing that gave you away. Another who was not as familiar with the magics of the Fade would not have detected you.”   
  


Mi’nan made a small humming sound and clasped her hands behind her back, turning to look at him, “So I need to be quicker around mages just in case. I will keep that in mind.”    
  


He gave her a small smile, “That would be a good adjustment Da’mi.”   
  


She tried to stop herself from flinching at the name but she wasn’t sure she had succeeded. It still hurt to hear that nickname again. But she needed to move on. It was far past time. She saw curiosity on Solas’ face and so she asked him a question to distract him.   
  


“What made you start studying the Fade, Pride?”    
  


Solas gave her a look that said he knew what she was doing but also like he understood. He also seemed to relax a little more, though Mi’nan couldn’t guess why. Maybe talk of the Fade calmed him? She would remember this bit of information for later.   
  


“I grew up in a small village to the north, where there was not much to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But when I slept, spirits showed me glimpses of worlds I had not imagined. I treasured my time in my dreams and eventually I could control them fully. I wanted to explore so much. Being awake became troublesome.” Solas was slightly wistful when speaking. She had clearly found one of his passions. He spoke with a soft rhythm, and it was pleasing to listen to.    
  


What had started has a diversion became genuine curiosity. “You have met spirits?”   
  


The question seemed to confuse Solas. “I- Yes. Spirits of Wisdom and Purpose I have counted amongst my closest friends.”   
  


Mi’nan could not stop herself from getting excited. “You’ve met Wisdom? I wonder if it was the same one? But they are not that common.”   
  


Solas seemed to freeze and stared at her with incredulity. He almost shook himself before asking, “Forgive me, but you aren’t a mage. How could you have met Wisdom?”   
  


Mi’nan closed her mouth sharply and made a decision. He had been kind. And he didn’t need to know  _ everything _ .   
  


“My twin brother was I've'an'virelan.”   
  


He looked at her with mild surprise, “Interesting. I am surprised you know the phrase. I understood it’s rather rare among the Dalish.” He really should’ve considered naming himself Arrogance instead of Pride. It would have been more accurate. Still. He wasn’t wrong. A fact that irritated Mi’nan.   
  


“It is. My twin brother and First of my clan was a dreamer. For as long as I can remember we used to share our dreams. It was assumed we shared dreams because we were twins. When his magic manifested in other ways he became our clan’s First.” she explained.    
  


“Used to?” he asked. Damn. She let that slip.   
  


“Where were you born Pride?” She countered.   
  


Solas gave her a raised eyebrow, “A village to the north, too small for a name to remember.”   
  


Mi’nan nodded. “Then my answer is the same as yours Pride.” She knew he would understand what she meant.   
  


Solas held her gaze for a moment as if searching for something but then released a small laugh.   
  


“I’m certainly glad I amuse you Pride.” a small smirk came to her lips.    
  


“You do more Da’mi.” Solas returned her smirk and she felt her ears warm. In an attempt to distract from her probably apparent flush she changed that conversation back to the original topic. Again.   
  


“What other spirits have you met in the Fade? What were they like?” Mi’nan asked genuinely curious.    
  


Solas gave her a look she could not read.    
  


“I-,” He started then cleared his throat. “Ahem. Forgive me. I have not met a Dalish who were amicable with spirits. It was my understanding that the Dalish treated spirits and demons with similar distrust.”   
  


Mi’nan had to actually visible take a deep breathe. Solas raised an eyebrow at her but waited for her to speak.   
  


“ _ Esaya Solas tel’hima ir’din’reast’solas. _ ” Mi’nan gave him a steady look. She was done being isolated because of her heritage, especially from other elves. If he could not be polite at the very least, then there was no point attempting with him. She was in no mood to defend her people.  __ Again.  
  


He seemed to sense her curt tone and was slightly taken aback. Did he not realize he was being an arse?   
  


“Ir abelas. I meant you no offense.” his back was straight and he placed a hand over his heart and slightly moved his body in the inclination of a small bow. The small but formal gesture confused Mi’nan. Where did this apostate learn etiquette like that?   
  


“Maybe not me, but to my people. I assure you Pride, we are one and the same.” Mi’nan replied, but the coldness was gone from her gaze.    
  


“There I would have to disagree Da’mi.” Solas said with a small smirk.   
  


Frustration returned swift and pounced, “Really? Pray tell do me why,  _ Pride _ .”   
  


“I have never met another Dalish who prays to Fen’Harel.” Victory danced in his eyes.   
  


Dammit. She knew it was a mistake to share that with him. Sharing anything with him was like sharing scraps with a wolf; you never knew when they would take off with them, then come bounding back for more.    
  


She rolled her shoulders and she saw his eyes flick to watch. “Regardless of who I pray to, Arrogance, I am, and I will always be, proudly Dalish. Is that a problem for you?” Her tone was chilling and had lost all humor.    
  


At her response, all humor he might have held was respectfully gone from his face.   
  


“Absolutely not. My most sincere apologies Mi’nan.” Solas locked eyes with her as he apologised.    
  


She stared him down, trying to see if he would betray any hint of dishonesty. She could not find any. Though she did not miss that he called her by her name; she did not want to admit that it affected her. Damn his voice!   
  


He did say that he had…  _ unpleasant _ she guessed, experiences with her people. What a elvhen mage was doing wandering around between clans was a mystery to her. There had been no communication between even their sister clans about a mage like him. And he certainly was never at clan Lavellan.    
  


What irked her was he wasn’t wrong. Her people were superstitious. Hell,  _ she _ was. She prayed to Fen’Harel! Still. Nobody but her was allowed to say anything that vagued on negative about the Dalish. Her opinions were based in  _ very _ personal experience. Most were typically based on stereotypes.   
  


Finally she sighed. He was sincere in his apology. It was too much energy to stay mad at someone who seemed genuinely repentant. “Apology accepted Pride.” her delivery was cold but sincere.   
  


Unfortunately there was now nothing but silence between them. And not their usual comfortable silences but the uncomfortable kind.   
  


“I-”   
  


“Wha-”   
  


“Herald!”   
  


Cassandra was striding towards her. Mi’nan flinched at the title. Mythal’enaste she hated it.   
  


“Yes Seeker?”   
  


“Come, we still need to tell the others about our trip to Val Royeaux.”   
  


“Of course Seeker.” Then she turned to Solas.   
  


“Sule ar'an dirthara sal Solas” She gave him a small half nod.

 

“Sule melahn'an Da’mi.” and he gave her a small smirk. Damn him. She felt her ears heat. Oh well. At least the weren’t tense anymore. Well. So to speak.   
  


Mi’nan shook her head and walked away with Cassandra towards the Chantry. It was only the morning.   
  


This was going to be a  _ very _ long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol Mi'nan isn't having any of his shit. 
> 
> Remeber to leave a comment and kudos! They remove writers block
> 
> Elvhen Translations:
> 
> I've'an'virelan: Dreamer. Fade walker.
> 
> Esaya Solas tel’hima ir’din’reast’solas.: “Be careful Pride doesn't become Arrogance.” but lit. means “careful Pride [does] not become much not pure/clean [corrupted] pride.” I made up the word for arrogance and corrupted cuz I couldn’t find it so ya know. MacGyver is my patron saint.

**Author's Note:**

> Elven Translations:
> 
> Elvish is a hard language to make conform to English rules of grammar but since most of it relies heavily on context it means you can usually mold the few words we have available to us into the phrases you need or want them to be. It's the reason we've seen ir abelas used as both a common "I'm sorry" and "I am filled with sorrow for your loss". A language that has words dedicated to entire concepts is going to be tricky to translate. And since the ancient elves had magic with a breath and eternal lifespans is it no wonder that their language relies heavily on vague meanings and more understanding of the person than the words? Anyway, I am using both the wiki page and the lexicon developed by FenxShiral on Archive of our own (Bless you, you beautiful human being you.) as a reference for my elvhen sentences.
> 
> Ghi'myelan I Fen: The Hunter And The Wolf. (It's in elvhen cuz I'm an asshole)
> 
> Tel'din'an, tel'nuvinen: Waste not, want not. (This was a little tricky to translate but the literal translation is " no end, no want/need". But yay for context!)
> 
> Fen'harel las'ma Mythal'enaste la ghilani'ma arla'astisha: Dread Wolf grant me Mythal's favor and guide me safely home. (Mi'nan is a rebel)
> 
> Hello there! So I had planned to finish this before I posted it but my brain kinda went 'Fuck it!' and here we are. I have 7 chapters already written and various out of order scenes partially written but I can not promise any kind of update schedule. The thing about this story is it is practice for me to get better at writing dialogue and developing a story for an original book I'm writing.
> 
> I will say that I could totally be down for writing some one-shots and I'll probs end up creating another story just to put them in.
> 
> Reviews always help the creative process!
> 
> Thanks, Lovelies!
> 
> ~Amythyrst
> 
> P.S. If anyone has any cover art they would like to make for this story I can not tell you how much I would love you!


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